


Getting Boddy'd

by Missy



Category: Psych
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Public Display of Affection, Singing Telegrams, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlton arranges a special surprise for Marlowe.  Unfortunately, no one warned Shawn...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Boddy'd

**Author's Note:**

> Written for CottonCandy_Bingo, prompt: "PDA/Public Displays of Affection".

“I call no way, Jules.”

Juliet O’Hara tossed her boyfriend a smug yet completely irritated look as they climbed back into her car. “Shawn, Carlton’s not a robot.”

“You can’t be entirely sure of that, Jules. Have you lifted his sleeve to check for circuits lately?”

“Shawn…”

Shawn held up a supplicating hand. “I’m sorry, pinchybuns. I’m still reeling from the shock. You’re telling me he’s planning on making out with Marlowe in public.”

Juliet gave him a glare. “Yes.”

“In PUBLIC,” he replied.

“Why not?” she wondered. “We all know they’re dating. He bought a whole condo for her four months ago.”

“But it’s Lassie!” Shawn replied. “I don’t even think he has a wingwang!”

Juliet cringed. “Thank you for forcing me to picture Carlton having sex,” she growled. 

“If I have to picture it so do you,” Shawn declared, then took a brief pause. “Though I admit the idea isn’t horrifying. Lassiter does have a decently little body. Nice eyes, attractive smile, and a butt that more than fills out his slacks…”

“Why no, Shawn, you shouldn’t stop talking! Please keep telling me how round my partner’s butt is…” Juliet muttered.

Shawn, of course, did just as she unintentionally bade him. “You could probably bounce a halfpenny or two off of it. And Marlowe’s pretty, though she doesn’t have your golden effervescence. I guess if she’s a moaner it wouldn’t be too bad to watch their pale bodies do the sweaty, squeaky wango ze tango– but then you’d have to deal with Lassie’s chest rug. THAT is a scary sight, I’m not kidding you…”

“Oh look,” Juliet remarked, flat-voiced, “we’re here.”

It had been a four-minute drive to their latest crime scene, and by the time they parked the Blueberry a small crowd of officers had gathered around the yellow-tape hemmed crime scene. Shawn immediately picked out Carlton, who hovered over the supine body of a woman, her fishnet stocking-clad legs and tap shoes peeping out from beneath a green car blanket. 

“Carlton, what’ve we got?” Juliet asked, her eyes already scanning the ground for clues.

Lassiter stood with his hands on his hips, slipping his sunglasses off. “Twenty-five year old Caucasian female. She’s been dead for around four hours if I had to take a guess. It looks like a hit and run.”

“Lassie, you know what happens when you assume,” Shawn declared. “You make an ass out of you and we.”

“…you and me,” Juliet corrected.

“I’ve heard it both ways.” He crouched and reached for the hem of the blanket. “Let me give it the Spencer special.”

Before he could pull back the blanket, Shawn noticed a blonde haired woman hovering near the edge of the crowd gathering by the crime scene. “Schmoopy poo!” she called happily, and Carlton quickly turned around and waved cheerfully at her.

“Jules,” Shawn wondered, “what’s Marlow doing here?” His fingers twisted hard against the blanket still covering the dead woman.

“How would I know?” she growled.

“Spencer, you long-haired potato, give me that blanket!” growled Lassiter. He seized the cloth from Shawn’s hand and yanked it back. When he noticed who lay beneath the material, Shawn let out a low-pitched gasp and backed away, his eyes wide and fear-filled.

“My God!” Shawn whispered. “Some twisted monster ran over Jane Wiedlin!”

But even this wasn’t the truth, as Ms. Wiedlin’s eyes flew wide open and she sat up. Shawn threw himself over Juliet, shouting “GO GO ZOMBIE!” 

“Spencer, you pinhead,” Lassiter snarled. Jane Wiedlin was on her feet, tapdancing toward Marlowe, humming and singing in the manner of her character from Clue. Belatedly, he also noticed that she was wearing her costume from the movie, but by then the Rush Hour singer was already two bars into her song.

“I’m your singing telegram  
Bringing you good cheer,  
From your loving Carlton  
To last the whole long year!  
He’s happy you’re not in prison  
He’s happy you’re not dead  
Cause soon you’re gonna be married!  
You’ll be soon be eating bread!”

Marlowe, her eyes brimming, vaulted over the tape and rushed toward Lassiter, throwing her arms around him and kissing Carlton with every ounce of passion in her body. Marlowe could only cling to him as the rest of the department stared at them, openly astonished. 

“Lassie!” Shawn crowed, rushing over with Jules at his heel. “You Boddy’d her! Good work my man!”

“Spencer,” Carlton offered, staring into his beloved’s eyes. 

“Yes, my PDA-loving friend?”

“Shut up,” Marlowe and Carlton shouted, this time in perfect unison, each against the other’s open, tender mouth.

THE END


End file.
